The God Who Sees, by Georgie Tennant

Let’s be honest for a moment - how often do you feel completely unseen – by others and even by God?  When weeks go by and no-one calls us to see how we are doing, we feel unseen.  When we are passed over and someone else is called on for a job we would love to do, we feel unseen. When we aren’t included by friends or family, we feel unseen. When we pray desperately for an answer and everyone’s prayers seem answered but our own, we feel unseen.

How do these feelings about life transpose to our writing? Perhaps we see others post a Facebook question which generates interest and enthusiasm, yet when we post one, it fizzles.  Perhaps we launch our latest Bible devotional, blog post or novel and the numbers we see it clocking up are nowhere near those we had dreamed of – and we feel unseen, unnoticed.

Perhaps we feel unseen more than we would care to admit.  Feeling unseen is synonymous with feeling unloved, unnoticed.  It can provoke in us feelings of shame and unworthiness and lead to negative thought patterns and destructive behaviour.  Counselling can be so effective because it provides a place for people to feel “seen,” for their deepest hurts to be acknowledged and talked through. Only then can we see a way out of our pain and begin to glimpse ourselves as God does – broken yes, but precious, loved, His.

I have always loved the story of Hagar. Her revelation is something we all need. I feel for her plight.  Her mistress, Sarai, had run out of patience with God’s timing to give her a son.  Sarai decided to “help God out,” by commanding Hagar to sleep with Abram, so he would get his desired heir somehow.

As Sarai’s maidservant, she would have had no choice but to be complicit in her mistress’ attempts to “help” God out; but once she delivered what Sarai had wanted, she found herself out of favour with her mistress, who jealously mistreated her. When things reached breaking point, she fled into the desert, lost, alone and ready to face inevitable death. 

But God had other plans. His angel spoke to her, declaring her destiny and sending her back, better equipped to outwork it, with His help.

I love Hagar’s words in this encounter – “You are the God who sees me.” El Roi.  The God Who Sees Me.

How different would we feel, how much better equipped would we be to handle disappointments and disasters if we truly grasped what Hagar did that day: that God sees us.  Really sees us.  Sees us with a seeing that no human relationship can give us.  Sees our plight, our hurts, our pains, our disappointments, our fears and our joys and meets us in them, loves us anyway, draws us forward to live with them, better, in His strength. Sees our scribbled drafts, polished WiPs, our hope-filled pitches, crushing rejections and delighted victories and looks on, an interested Father, a loving comforter.

A while ago, I wrote a poem to help me capture for myself a sense of the God Hagar encountered. I am praying for myself, for a fresh revelation of the God who sees me - especially at the moment, especially when real encounters with people are scarce, that I would sense the loving eyes of God on me and it would be enough.  I am praying that for you, today too.

The God Who Sees

When I’m totally spent and overcome

You are the God who sees.

When all I can feel is exhausted and numb

You are the God who sees.

Wherever I am, wherever I run,

Soaring or on my knees,

El Roi gently calls my name –

He is the God who sees.

When my day has left me uninspired,

You are the God who sees.

When I wake up, already feeling tired,

You are the God who sees.

Wherever I am, wherever I run,

Soaring or on my knees,

El Roi gently calls my name –

He is the God who sees.

When I make the right choice, though there’s no-one around,

You are the God who sees.

When the stresses of life bring my face to the ground,

You are the God who sees.

Wherever I am, wherever I run,

Soaring or on my knees,

El Roi gently calls my name –

He is the God who sees.

When I give it my best, though I’m desperate to quit,

You are the God who sees.

When I grow and change, even the tiniest bit,

You are the God who sees.

Wherever I am, wherever I run,

Soaring or on my knees,

El Roi gently calls my name –

Always the God who sees.

Georgie Tennant is a secondary school English teacher in a Norfolk Comprehensive.  She is married, with two sons, aged 11 and 9 who keep her exceptionally busy. She writes for the ACW ‘Christian Writer’ magazine occasionally, and is a contributor to the ACW-Published ‘New Life: Reflections for Lent,’ and ‘Merry Christmas, Everyone,’ and, more recently, has contributed to a phonics series, out later this year. She writes the ‘Thought for the Week’ for the local newspaper from time to time and also muses about life and loss on her blog: www.somepoemsbygeorgie.blogspot.co.uk